Turning Points
by Risa9559
Summary: I can feel a raging anger in my heart as they took Sensei away. Why? Why did they arrest him like a criminal? If someone was to blame, it would be me. Sensei is a kind man; he is our sun and the reason we can live in such indescribable happiness. Please, punish me in his stead and release him. If you don't, then DIE.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…**

**Disclaimer: Gorilla + Gorilla = Gintama. Me no Gorilla yo.**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –1**

**Gintoki**

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There was a time when the red dead-fish eyes were alive with the vigour of youth. It was not always so lacking of enthusiasm and cynical of life; was once actually filled to the brim with an unspeakable vitality on what life has to offer.

The positivism had perhaps completely fled him when he was in his teens –though he had not possessed much of it in his childhood either-; perhaps had completely disappeared on an overcast rainy day when he was given a weighty patterned scabbard onto his smooth open palms. He had tightly held on to the sheathed sword with unwavering determination, all for the sake of the people he cherished.

He stood quietly on the battlefield, observing the last cry of pain from men and amantos alike, the sound ringing in his unaccustomed ears. Metals cleave flesh and bones crack with force, the crimson red bathed the enemy and ally to adjoin them into a communion of massacre; the common sense of the world is invalid in this battle for survival.

The raging beast charged towards him in a complete frenzy and he dodged the hiss of death brought by the axe in an instant. He unsheathed the sword not to protect himself but to protect his bushido, his own way of the samurai, though he hesitates to swing the sharp steel, reluctant to inflict injury upon another living being.

Even so, the moment of hesitation passed as he raised the gleaming cold metal with conviction. He had swung the weapon for the sake of one man with whom he had made an important promise.

Confined by the promise and by his own naïve and inexperienced bushido, he wielded the heartless steel to protect them all –to protect the legacy left behind by Shouyo-sensei in the form of anguished students.

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**A/N:** yes, I'm guilty... I have 2 incomplete fic and am doing a new one. Oh well, so what? You guys know me. Procrastination and I are married so there's no way I'll finish anything mwahahahaha...

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Nah, jokes. I'll finish them. I promise. ... Uh, sometime in the future :P


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…**

**Disclaimer: I have glasses but I don't have a pet gorilla. So I don't own Gintama.**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –2**

**Katsura**

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All his life he had tried to be the best and succeeded in being the best. His family status and his brilliance had made him out to be an excellent student and an excellent son in the eyes of many.

He was popular amongst teachers and parents alike although it was not so much the case with his peers. Out of jealousy and envy, they had isolated him with the excuse that he was hard to approach, surrounding him only when there was something to be gained for them. In truth, he did not mind it. Polite mannerisms and niceties had been ingrained into the core of his being since birth, and using them as tools in a world run by man, he had quite easily forged superficial friendships to avoid the snide criticisms made by the neighbours' venomous gossips.

It was all well until the moment his beloved Shouyo-sensei introduced a silver little devil into their classroom. The child was pitifully weak, yet cautious and fierce. What started out as a perk of curiosity had turned into a caring concern that lasted far into their teenage years. They had bickered and wrestled and argued, but at the end of the day, they had always laughed together with grins spreading wide to the corners of their eyes.

Now the two stands on the battlefield, the sword in his hand had long been unsheathed and his cry of war had long reverberated through the enemy's and the ally's metal plates. He did not falter as he parried the attacks to his shoulder and his stomach; finally, his own weapon connected to the firm, muscled chest of the beast that is collapsing towards him.

He did not and would not try to comprehend the damage he had done, for he had accepted the burden of the sword the moment he gave it to the smooth open palms, trying to cling to his own unyielding belief. He had deemed it necessary to strike with the fire of violence –negotiations and political niceties had become out-dated since his childhood years, his plea for the sake of his teacher had fallen on deaf ears.

Now, he swings the mocking sword in order to protect the country that encompass his world; a world surrounded with precious friends and his beloved teacher.

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**A/N:** Yay... I'm making progress XD


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: Slight gore; Death, death everywhere…**

**Disclaimer: Gintamine ja nai, Gintama da. ;D**

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**Turning Points**

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**Story of Life –3**

**Takasugi**

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It did not matter what his parents had wanted of him. It also did not matter as to what the neighbours and their brats would say of him behind his back. He does not possesses Koutarou's academic talent nor his innate born charisma though he believes that no one can beat him at the swords with his own unique sword style that he is so proud of.

It was Shouyo-sensei that had taught him on how to excel in the art of swords; the naïve boy was determined to be on par to the two mischievous boys who had spent a great deal of time together, spending every day covered in dirt and mud, the glimmer of happiness always present upon their faces. For once in his short life, Shinsuke had longed to be a part of a group and he had longed to stand next to them on the battlefield and entrust them both with his life.

In thinking back, he had owed it to the two idiotic friends for the precious memories of happy childhood, also to Shoyo-sensei for the indescribable happiness that he was allowed to experience in his little time in the dojo. He owed Shouyo-sensei more than his sense of gratitude; for the love he had lavished on the days he came back to the dojo covered in bruises on his heart and body, his face masked with a glare of hatred. It was in Shinsuke's nature to fail others' expectations but the existence of his teacher had accepted him for who he is and encouraged him to move forward.

That day his heart had squeezed tightly until it suffocated him, his breathing became more and more shallow and ragged with every passing moment as they took away his beloved teacher. He failed to understand as to the reason why; the answer that he had reached is clutched in the left hand holding the sharp glint of steel. Without so much as an urging from Koutarou, he had gladly picked up the weight of the scabbard and had enclosed the smooth open palms of his friend's on the weapon; an encouragement to regain what they have lost. Though it is in his nature to fail others, this time, he had vowed not to disappoint the teacher whom he had treasured so much.

Charging through the enemy's rank covered in blood and cuts, he has no time to neither hesitate nor think about what he is doing; avoiding the train of thought that leads to the fact that he had made his first kill.

All his mind could think of was to hit, strike, cut, slash, harm, hack and he could only repeat the repetitive motion until he is exhausted; the art and grace of the sword that Sensei had taught him had been replaced with his own style of frenzy. He swung his sword to reclaim the only teacher he had ever treasured, fixing his vision to the moment when he is able to reunite with Shouyo-sensei; the man whom he would sacrifice everything in order to reclaim.

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**A/N: **Yay... I'm on a roll! XD


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